Surf's Up!
by Fritz Will Get You
Summary: Michelangelo decides it's high time that Donatello learns how to mattress surf. Donnie isn't so sure, but Mikey isn't taking no for an answer. Hilarity ensues. And what will Leonardo think when he realizes that it's HIS mattress they are surfing on?


_Just a silly little idea that I got while talking to a friend. Yes, that was a shout out to you, Calliope. _

_Anyways, we were talking about mattress surfing and I just had to write this. It's midnight and I'm half dead, but the thought of Mikey and Donnie whizzing down the huge stairs in their sewer home makes me smile. :)_

_Enjoy!_

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"Hey Donnie! You come to try it out too?" Mikey's voice was coming from somewhere nearby, but Donatello couldn't see because there was a huge mattress blocking the doorway. It looked suspiciously like Leonardo's, since it still had his bedsheets on it. What used to be stiff and immaculate bedding was now a messy wad of fabric that would make the Fearless One cringe. Don always found it strange that Leo would be so picky about making his bed, but he couldn't really be picky about being neat, especially since his own room resembled a nuclear fallout zone during one of his many projects. Most of the time he fell asleep on his work, rarely making it to bed before his body forced him to sleep.

Carefully he pushed the mattress away from the door frame, almost afraid to see what damage Mikey had caused on the other side. The large crashes and whoops that broke him out of his current concentrations weren't what worried him: it was the impossibly large silence that had followed, the possibility that Mikey had finally done himself in during one of his latest stints while being bored.

Wincing before he could even see the chaos of the living room, Don looked around. Nothing was out of the ordinary. The television area was intact, his computers (thankfully) still in one piece, and the kitchen was still in working order. Leonardo and Raphael were topside with Splinter to get supplies, leaving Donatello and Michelangelo to hold down the fort. Or, in Mikey's case, destroy it.

"Mikey, what are you doing?" Don asked, edging out past the mattress, still looking for damage.

"I'm mattress surfing, bro! You gotta try it! It's like, the best thing since microwaveable pizza!" Mikey gave his brother his trademark grin and hefted the mattress back up the stairs, positioning it precariously at the top, holding onto the bedsheets so he wouldn't tip over early.

Don frowned. "Mattress surfing?" He was already calculating where the mattress would end up after its flight down the stairs, and he wasn't liking the angle of it and the location of his bedroom door.

"Yeah! You comin' or what?" Before his older brother could reply, Mikey gave a whoop and rocked forward, causing the mattress to careen forward and slide down the stairs at a frightening speed, straight towards the terrified turtle at the bottom.

"COWABUNGA!" Mikey's scream cut off the scream of terror from his brother, and with a tremendous crash the mattress smashed into the floor, skidding to a halt mere centimeters from poor Donnie, who was clutching his door frame like it was his only protection.

"Hey, are you just going to stand there or are you going to help a bro out with this?" Mikey tugged the mattress back to the stairs, suddenly developing a limp and a pathetic sniffle. Donnie knew that this was all a pitiful act to get him to do something stupid, not to mention incredibly dangerous, and he was having none of it. Nope. He was going to be smart and close his door, going back to working on his repair jobs and numerous projects that begged for his complete and undivided attention. Mikey could entertain himself for a few more hours until Leo or Raph came home. He was old enough to be on his own for a while, maybe settle down a little, watch a movie or something.

But rarely did they have such time where it was just two of them, not three or four or five. Such a rare moment shouldn't be passed up, right? Even if it was just mattress surfing with his hyperactive brother, it wasn't something that came around often. Maybe he should try it....

"No. I'm going back into my room, and I'm going to concentrate on my work." Donatello said with a confident smile to himself. "No more distractions." He looked to see if Michelangelo was listening to him, and immediately regretted it.

Mikey was giving him _the look_. That dreaded face that no one, human or turtle, could resist. It was the look of a kicked puppy, a dejected little face that had just been told that there was no more love left in the world. The expression that could make hearts melt, one so cute that some just wanted to throw up. It was also rumored that this was the look that could make even the vicious Raphael pause in his bloodthirsty tirade and possibly back down a little. Not even the most dangerous of weapons could do that.

So Mikey's mastery of _the look _was why Donnie, against his better judgment, found himself perched uncertainly on the mattress, gripping Leo's bedsheets like they were his last line of sanity. "Mikey, I'm not so sure about this." The ninja turtle said, wondering how the staircase suddenly became ten times larger than it had been all their lives.

"Aw, come on Donnie! Don't think about it, just do it." Mikey slapped his brother's shell, causing the mattress to slip forward a little.

"NO!" Donnie yelped, pulling back before he could plunge forward. "It's not... It's just not a safe idea."

"Look bro, sometimes you have to take risks. Sometimes you just have to take a chance. Besides, I've done this hundreds of times, and I'm fine!" Despite Mikey's reassurances, Donnie could beg to differ, but he didn't say anything and simply sighed.

"Okay. On the count of three. One, two-"

"Down you go!" Mikey gave him a good hearted, brotherly shove.

That brotherly shove sent the mattress whizzing down the stairs at such an outrageous speed poor Donnie was carried clear across the room and almost into the television, stopping only when the couch presented itself as an unmovable barrier to the out of control force.

There was another familiar thunderous crash, and all was quiet. The mattress was overturned with Donnie nowhere in sight.

"Donnie? Where' you go?" Mikey slid down the banister, hurrying over to the mattress and flinging it away from the couch. The scientific genius was lying upside down against the couch, legs over his head and arms splayed out in front of him like a confused figure skater. "Hey, are you alright? That was a major wipeout."

Donnie fell over onto his side, eyes rolling around a little before being able to focus on the orange banded brother in front of him. "Can we do that again?"

Five seconds later they were sliding down again, and again, and again. They had discovered that while the mattress was the most comfortable to slide on, it just didn't quite get the velocity that the couch cushion could. Or so Donatello claimed.

After waffling around a bit Donnie finally gave in and stood on the couch cushion (they had grown bored with the 'safety' of sitting while sliding), bo staff held in front of him for balance. If he could make it down the stairs without falling off, he could use the staff to turn at the right moment to keep him from careening into his room, which would be disastrous for him and the equipment he was working on if he crashed. It wouldn't be a problem. He had thought it all through, and it would be worth it. Of course, simply closing the door hadn't crossed either of their minds, but that wasn't the point. He was going to show Mikey that this was going to be a work of perfectly balanced speed and precision.

"Ready for takeoff." Donatello said quietly, bracing himself. Mikey nodded, stepped back a few paces, then gave him a mighty push, sending his brother off on the greatest mattress surf in the history of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Mattress Surfing.

"BOSSA NOVAAAAAAARRRGH!" Donnie's triumphant cry quickly turned to one of terror as he attempted to turn but found himself moving too fast to do so. With a scream he flew into his room, his crash topping all the cringe inducing ones they had been making over the past hours. Something heavy fell, something shattered, and something-or someone-groaned painfully. The last thought Don had before the dark haze clouded his mind was: _I hope Leo doesn't find out that we've trashed his mattress...._

"Hey, Donnie! Wake up buddy!"

"Mikey, what did you do?"

"Nothing, bro. Just a little harmless exercise."

"Yeah, so harmless it nearly killed him."

"Give him some room guys, he's coming around."

Donnie was aware of the voices floating around his head, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes until the room grounded itself again. He felt like his entire body had been turned weightless while still managing to be indescribably heavy at the same time. With a moan he opened his eyes, looking up into the worried ones of the Fearless Leader himself.

"Ugh... did I break anything?" Donnie whispered, bringing a hand to his aching head.

"Nothing important." Leonardo said, smiling a little.

"Good. Remind me to kill Mikey for even suggesting mattress surfing." Leo helped him sit up, whereupon Mikey immediately rushed forward, glad to see his brother alive but even more enthusiastic about the fact that for once in his life, his brother had messed up. In _mattress surfing_, no less.

"Man, you messed up soooooo bad! You should have heard yourself when you missed the turn!" Mikey looked so smug Donnie wanted to punch him, but that would have required effort he did not have. Instead he surveyed the damage he had done to his worktable and sighed. Nothing new there.

Suddenly Leo's voice rang from his bedroom. "WHAT HAPPENED TO MY MATTRESS?"

Raphael snickered at his brother's panicked looks, and with a high pitched, undoubtedly girly scream Mikey tore out of the room, looking for somewhere to hide before his enraged brother came after him.

Splinter, who had been watching the whole exchange from the sidelines, simply shook his head and smiled. Without saying a word he retired to his room, sitting down on the bed with a sigh. Anyone who knew anything about mattress surfing would know that his mattress would have been perfect for stair sliding. Of course, there was also the fact that anyone who knew Master Splinter also knew that if they even considered using the bed for anything other than sleeping they would never surf again.

With this in mind, Splinter turned in for the night, the screams of ruined bed sheet revenge washing over him like everything else. Nothing new there either.

_fin_


End file.
